


Brisk Runnings

by bluegraywilde



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-27
Updated: 2018-02-27
Packaged: 2019-03-24 13:02:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13811745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluegraywilde/pseuds/bluegraywilde
Summary: Jack Harkness uses the Pyeonchang Olympics as an opportunity to mess with the Doctor.





	Brisk Runnings

          Jack admired himself in the full length mirror. As always he looked like the classic square-jawed American action hero. _Well the camp version, especially in these borrowed duds._ The skintight Union Jack morph suit left absolutely nothing to the imagination. _Pure perfection._

          He didn’t have anything to hide. After his birthday suit had been broadcast to teeming billions in the year 200100, he somehow lost even more shame than the minimal amount he had to begin with. _Getting embarrassed just gets in the way of getting laid. Speaking of…_

          “Doctor, you ready in there?”

          “Jack, before I come out…” _Oh I wish._ “Care to remind me what winning Great Britain the gold in pairs bobsled has to do with saving Earth from a Zygon incursion?”

          Jack smiled to himself. Wasn’t often that he knew more than the Doctor. But this version was a younger than the last one he saw that had set him up with Midshipman Frame. Didn’t know yet that he had helped UNIT resettle Zygons on Earth after that bit of business with three of them. _To think I missed the chance to fuck with three whole incarnations. Crying shame._

          If he had to guess, the Doctor was somewhere between Martha leaving, but before meeting Donna for the second time. He had recognized Alonso’s name when Jack had made the requisite dirty joke after exchanging pleasantries. _Oops, spoilers._

 _Allons y Alonso._ Now that had been a good fuck. Well fucks, multiple days of hedonistic sex and drugs blurred together in a happy haze. He couldn’t quite recall if anyone else got involved. But knowing himself, the odds were very much in his favor.

         Shaking his head, Jack returned to the matter at hand. “You know the Zygons not the cleverest bunch, what with that business of trying to conquer the world with the Loch Ness monster forty, fifty years ago. So I made them a wager.”

         He could hear the Doctor sigh from within the changing room. _Wow does he really believe I’m the kind of person who’d gamble away the future of the human race? Ouch._

         Jack plowed on regardless. “If I beat them in an Olympic event they’d leave the Earth alone, if I lost they could colonize bits and bobs to be decided upon by negotiations with UNIT and the United Nations... neither of which have approved this gambit, so don’t mention it if you run into any high ranking officials while you’re here… especially the Americans. Lord knows they don’t need any encouragement.”

         “As for why Team GB, my work with Torchwood got me British citizenship, and the Queen was kind enough to revoke her double great-grandma’s royal edict banning Sir Doctor of Tardis from the Empire, given there’s not really much of it left.”

_Gaining a knighthood and being banished within minutes, that’s so him._

         “Then I pulled some strings with Tessie to get a special dispensation from 10 Downing Street for your own citizenship application what with you being an alien and all. For a vicar’s daughter whose idea of illicit fun involves running through wheat fields, she can be rather naughty let me you tell you that.”

         “Jack….”

         “I know, I know let’s not get hung up on the logistics. Honestly it’s better that you don’t think too hard about it. Might distract from your performance.” _I really should have come up with a better cover. Then again it was on short notice._ But when the Doctor falls into his lap, he had to take advantage of the chance to mess with him.

         The Doctor stepped out of the changing room, and Jack knew instantly that the charade was worth it. _Matchstick man indeed._

         This incarnation was so skinny the morph suit made him look nearly two dimensional… except in all the places where it mattered. _And I thought seeing him in those pinstripe suits was hot._

         Only a small detail marred the pretty picture. “You’re keeping on the sandshoes? Seriously?”

         "What’s the problem? I’d feel naked without them.” _And what a shame that’d be. Let’s see what I can do to rectify the situation._

         “Suit yourself.” _Haha that pun!_ “Shall we, Doctor?”

         “Oh I’m definitely going to regret this.” But then he let loose a manic grin that matched Jack’s own in intensity. “But why not? Allons y!”

         They marched out in tandem, Jack playing to the crowd to his heart’s content. Even the Doctor was enjoying his moment in the Olympic limelight. _Maybe this is less selfish than I thought._

         They lined up at the start. “After you.”

         The Doctor hesitated. “I thought you were taking the lead on this. Given you were the roping me in and all. Haven’t quite had the spare time to get my doctorate in bobsledding yet.”

         “Well qualifications are really besides the point when you have two indestructible immortals behind the- err well there’s not quite a wheel now is there?”

         “Speak for yourself. You’re talking to the man who regenerated because I hit my head on the TARDIS console too hard that one time. Or fell from a radio telescope. And then there was the time I got shot up by a bunch of gangsters.”

          “To be fair, guns tend to kill most people.”

          Jack had the feeling the Doctor was about to list off every one of his regenerations to procrastinate against the inevitable. “Come on big guy,” Jack placed a firm hand on the Doctor’s shoulder and began steering him toward the sled. “It’s just like riding a bike. Easier in fact.”

          “Good because I uh never learned.” He stood there sheepishly grinning, one hand scratching the back of his head.

          “Oh this is too good.” _Yeah I’m never gonna let him live this one down._

          “What? When the Medusa Cascade is your playground as a kid, who wants to ride a crummy two wheeled contraption.”      

          “Well not a problem. See no pedals. Gravity does all the work for you. Just need a running start, which given your lifestyle shouldn’t be a problem.”

          “Well… I mean you’re not wrong.” The Doctor conceded.

          “And next to piloting the TARDIS, I’m pretty sure steering an aluminum pod careening down a treacherous icy path at ninety miles per hour is nothing.” _Yeah definitely meant that to be more reassuring. Oh well._

           Before the Doctor could process his words, Jack declared, “Allons y Doctor!” He tossed the Doctor his helmet, before placing on his own. _Hope he’s not too vain about that hair._

           And so they ran. The Doctor dived in the sled a moment before Jack, and they begin their descent to a roar of excitement from the stand.

           Jack was just intimately aware of how close he was to the Doctor. The cheering crowd faded away. The lights seemed to dim, the world contracting to their snug little capsule shooting down the icy artificial track.

           “Jack, I’m really hoping that you managed to snag another sonic blaster.”

            Jack’s cheeks went red with some of the blood that was not being directed to his lower half. “Doctor, I thought you hated that thing.”

            “Or did you nick my sonic screwdriver maybe?”

            “Nope the only the tech I got on me is a compact laser deluxe pistol and you don’t want to know where that is at the moment.” _Honesty is a healthy component of any relationship._

They whipped around one turn. Jack knew it was a hopeless task to rearrange his boner in the tight compression suit. Besides without room to maneuver in the bobsled, there was no hope of repositioning himself out of the compromising situation.

            “So yeah that thing digging into you is exactly what you think it is.” _It’s one way to declare my intentions I suppose. No room for ambiguity now._

            “Just wanted the clarification.” Another turn down. Jack was left wondering if the Doctor’s response boded well or ill. _Suppose I’ll see at the bottom._

            The ride was over almost as soon as it began.

            Taking off his helmet Jack saw that their time was absolutely atrocious nearly thirty seconds off the team currently in first, the mouthful that was the Olympic Athletes from Russia. Ironically enough one half of that duo was actually a Zygon. _I suppose it’s technically not doping_ _if shapeshifting is a biological feature not induced by chemicals._

            The Doctor also took off his helmet, his quiff looking decidedly less bouncy, but still attractive in the same way bed hair is in the movies. _Perfectly imperfect. Oh fuck him, even his helmet hair is endearing._

            The Doctor’s attention was engrossed on the score, looking decidedly crushed. Jack went up to him. “Doesn’t matter,” Jack whispered in his ear before pulling back to take in his beautiful face.

            His brow furrowed in confusion, “What makes you say that?”

Jack turned the Doctor’s face toward his own, looked into those lovely brown eyes, and knew this was his moment. _Now or never._

            Before he could hesitate, before the rational part of himself could keep his libido in check. Jack went in for the kiss. And more glorious than anything else was that the Doctor kissed him back. With tongue! _Cheeky cheeky._

He breathed, “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that. Decades easy.”

“There aren’t any Zygons, are there.”

            “Oh no, there’s plenty.” The Doctor raised an eyebrow. “But they’re all perfectly legal residents going about their ordinary lives. Well as ordinary as you can be as red rubbery aliens covered in suckers.”

             Jack gestured behind him as they walked toward the exit. “That camerawoman over there who just filmed us sucking face, she’s a Zygon. Slept with her my first night here.”

             The Doctor’s eyebrow shot up into the stratosphere.

             “Oh don’t give me that look. Once you get past the suckers, they’re quite good in bed. Got one word for you: Shapeshifters.” Jack grinned intoxicated on the Doctor’s presence. _This is how it always should be._

            Once they exited the arena, away from the buzz of the cameras and the crowd, the mood shifted. At first Jack thought he was just imagining it. His nerves still fried from the overdose of the kiss.

            But he was wrong, oh so wrong. The Doctor’s face said it all. The mournful somber creases lining his face were in sharp relief under the florescent lighting. _I know what’s coming. Make it stop. Make it stop._

            “Oh, Jack. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” _Of course. That old line._ “But it’s not going to happen. Not now. Not ever. Not because of Rose or because the misses disapproves.” The TARDIS cloister bell chimed ominously as an exclamation to that particular sentiment. “Or even because you’re a man, I’m very pro-51st century values. What does gender matter to dancing partners?” _Less than nothing._

            “But Jack I can’t. You’re immortal.”

            “So are you.” The rejection was already beginning to sting, and Jack couldn’t stop the accusation from flying out of his mouth. He had lost so many people. _Owen… Tosh… Ianto… oh Ianto… It all still hurts. Fresh wounds that won’t heal. The only ones that can’t heal._

            Emotional scabs that even after all these years he couldn’t stop picking at, driving himself mad. _I keep on living. And they all die like mayflies around me. An eternity with death as my only companion._

            “But Jack I change. I am change. One day- hopefully not too soon- this face will change and a new person will saunter away, leaving behind everything and everyone, all on a whim.”

            The Doctor paused for a moment as if considering his next words, and when they came out all cracked and broken, Jack felt each stab him. _Multiples times._ “Because that’s who I am.”

            Jack narrowed his eyes. “You don’t need to remind me. I remember. I lived it. Abandoning me among the ruins of the Gamestation. Not as a careless mistake, but on purpose.”

            “I seem to recall we’ve already had this conversation. On Malcassairo. At the end of everything.” _Nothing more futile than the quest for Utopia_.

            “Well you never apologized for it. And you hand those out like Halloween candy.” _I’m too old to play the petulant child. No matter how young I look._ But his soured mood was fogging his brain, releasing his id.

            “I’m apologizing now.” The Doctor’s eyes pled forgiveness. _Those eyes will be the death of me._ “But you are a fact. Singular and unyielding. And that is the one thing I can’t love. At least not in the way you want me to.” _No, I need you to._

            Jack tried to summon the will to keep fighting for this, but he knew the struggle was pointless. He let go. Ready to drown in his emotions.

           “Goodbye Jack. I’ll be sure to look you up again sometime. If you’re willing.” _A lie. Kindly meant. But nevertheless a lie._

_You’ll see me again. When twenty-seven stolen planets populate the night’s sky. But this is my last goodbye to you. Goodbye, Doctor._

           Numb, Jack merely nodded, giving a half-hearted salute that fell the moment the TARDIS doors shut. A familiar wheezing, groaning sound announced its departures, the blue box dematerializing away. _We share all of time and space, but I’m forced to walk the slow path, always traveling the long way round. Marching on and on, to the end of everything._

 _My last second chance with that incarnation. There won’t be another._ He prayed the universe wouldn’t be that cruel, even as he hoped that he was wrong. Self-loathing and self-pity alternated in equal measure. _I need a drink._

            From in his locker, Jack heard his cell start ringing. Checking the caller ID, he had to grin. _Some good news, hopefully._ “Martha Jones- oh sorry is it Jones-Smith now? I can never remember- still are the voice of a nightingale, what can I do for you?”

            An unexpected but familiar Welsh accent intoned. “Jack it’s me. I knew you wouldn’t answer the phone if you knew I was calling. And Martha was kind enough to loan me her mobile.” _Gwen Cooper._

“I saw your little stunt on the BBC. When are you going to grow up?”

            _Ouch._ Jack cringed for a moment before settling on a quip response. “Gwen I’m well over one hundred fifty years old. I think I’m pretty grown at this point.”

            “Oh don’t start.” She chortled besides herself, and Jack could almost pretend it was like old times. Almost. “Torchwood is gone, Jack. Dead and buried like the Miracle.” _If only it was. But Torchwood won’t die until I will. It’ll all just keep replaying in my head on a loop. All the heartache and the loss and the pain. And the dying. Always dying._

            “I can accept that you couldn’t just walk away. I can accept that a desk job at UNIT isn’t your cup of tea. Hell I can even accept that you’d abandon me. But I can’t live with myself if this is how you’re going to spend your life. You have everything.”

            “Oh that’s where you’re wrong Gwen. I have nothing. Not even you.” _That’s a dark thought._ But he realized it was oh so true. _The immortal suffering from ennui, how original._

 _When did I become a cliche? Might as well have a hideous portrait hiding in my attic suffering for my hedonistic sins._ Jack rolled his eyes. Apparently ironic distancing himself from his deep-seated issues was his new coping mechanism.

           But Gwen wasn’t about to indulge his self-pity. “You were the one that made that decision, idiot. After that stunt you pulled after the 456, running away like that. You did it again. Inspired by _his_ example I suppose.” A bitter jab that stung worse than he anticipated.

           “Don’t.” One word. A simple plea. But he imbued it with such feeling. _Don’t dance on the shards of my broken heart._

           Gwen backtracked. “Look, Jack.” _She sounds tired._ “Rhys, Anwen- that beautiful goddaughter you refuse to visit- and myself. We’re all still waiting in Cardiff. You’re welcome any time. Pop in for some tea. You needn’t stay long.”

           Jack’s first instinct was to tell her he would. _A lie. But kindly meant._ But Gwen beat him to the punch. “I know, I know. Daft idea.” Jack felt a spasm of guilt run through his body. “It’s a ghost town to you now. Land of the dead. And the living dead.”

 _She’s not wrong._ “But that’s been the case since day one. As much as everything has changed since. That’s been a constant. We’ve been a constant. Gwen Cooper and Jack Harkness. Defenders of the Earth.”

          “Well mostly the greater Cardiff metropolitan area.” They both chuckled. “But glad to see a little spark of ambition is still in there.” _Ambition was never the problem my dear._

          A sudden inspiration took hold of Jack. “I’ll take you up on that offer.” He clarified, “From earlier. I’ll visit. Time agent’s honor. Won’t promise to stay. But seeing my best friend in the flesh is long overdue.”

          He could hear hesitation in Gwen’s voice. _She’s reluctant to let me back in. Offer notwithstanding. And I can’t blame her._ He had an idea to fix that. “Does UNIT have access to the records from the Titanic II incident?”

          “Wait, what?” _Oh Gwen Cooper you have no idea what’s coming._

          “Look it up. Trust me.” _A big ask I know._

          “Fine!” _Oh she sounds pissed._ “Fine. Give me a sec.”

          Jack paced as he waited, listening to the sound of Gwen typing on a computer. _A little faster. Come on. Come on._

          “Got it.” Gwen began reading from the file. “Titanic II, space cruise liner, nearly crashed to Earth from near-orbit. Stopped by the Doctor. One Earthbound refugee resettled, a Mr. Copper. Jack, this all from ten years ago, why does it matter?”

          “Any contact information for one of the surviving crew members? A Midshipman. Alonso Frame, native of the planet Sto.”

          “Jack, I don’t really think UNIT would…” Gwen let out a small noise of surprise. “There is actually.” _Perfect._ “I’m assuming you want it.”

          “No.” He quickly amended, “I mean not yet. That’s my incentive to keep my promise to you and visit. It’s your guarantee that I’ll follow through. And won’t flake like the devilish rogue I am.”

          He could almost hear her roll her eyes. “This Alonso someone special, huh? An old flame?” _Maybe this was a mistake._

          “Something like that.” _Maybe a good fuck could be something more. Or at least more good fucks._

          “Well then Jack, I’ll be waiting.” _So will I._

          Gwen hung up on him. _Rude. Suppose there was nothing else to say._

          Jack smiled to himself. _Some good came out of this, just not the sort I was expecting._


End file.
